


BloodCam: Bagh Naka

by hollo



Series: Blood Trails - BloodCam AU [6]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Ace Keith, Blood, Blood Kink, Blood licking, Bloodplay, Cam Show, Consensual But Not Safe Or Sane, Cutting, Fetish, I forgot about that lol, M/M, NSFW, Not Suitable/Safe For Work, Scars, Self-Harm, Sexual Content, algolagnia, also there's cats, camshow, haematophilia, non sexual sadism, previously posted in the defunct Hematoma but needs to be reposted as a stand alone now, sexual masochism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-03
Updated: 2018-09-03
Packaged: 2019-07-06 12:36:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15886197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hollo/pseuds/hollo
Summary: ...The chat scrolled, and Lance responded and reacted to whatever the occupants said, but Keith barely kept up with it. Some nights he was more attentive but that night he just wanted to watch, to let the show wash over him and enjoy it. Lance was so engaging and so good and he was so pretty and when he held up his favorite knife - the short bladed one with a well-worn black plastic handle - Keith felt the thrill tremble through him in anticipation of him becoming, impossibly, even prettier...~part of the BloodCam AU~





	BloodCam: Bagh Naka

**Author's Note:**

> First of all, apologies to anyone who has read the now-defunct Hematoma as this is pulled directly from there. I really wanted it to stand alone as the New and Improved Hematoma will be starting in the spring following this one shot, and I want to fill in the gap of time between BloodCam and Hematoma with some one shots to give you all a feel for what is happening.
> 
> For everyone who hasn't read the old Hematoma - welcome! Enjoy! I hope you like bloodplay because oh boy this is one of those... those bloody plays. Indeed. 
> 
>  
> 
> Twitter: https://twitter.com/itsdetachable  
> Tumblr: http://justbloodcamthings.tumblr.com

_ Bagh Naka _ were extremely interesting, somewhat concealable weapons from India inspired by the claws of big cats, specifically tiger's. Hell, their name even meant "tiger's claws" in Hindi. Their design was kind of simple and absolutely  _ perfect _ \- a bar of metal with rings or holders at the ends for the pointer and pinky finger to slip through, and four curved blades at the front of it, positioned so they'd be just under the curve of the wearer’s fingers.  A swipe from someone wearing a bagh naka could slice through skin easily, and with enough force cut through the muscle and leave nasty, gaping wounds.

 

It was pure, dumb luck that Keith had logged onto a weapon collectors forum he hadn't been on in ages to find someone auctioning one with only a couple hours left on the counter. For a moment he just stared at the screen, almost not believing what he saw. It was a true  _ bagh naka _ , according to the seller, brought over from India by the sellers grandparent or gray-grandparent. It looked simple and unassuming until you got to the pictures that showed off the curved blades, the sharp points and the surprisingly clean edges, and its deadly potential became apparent.

_ I need to have that _ , Keith thought, his brain unable to process much more than that as he clicked the bid button. It was pricy, the starting bid had been $100 and it was well above that by that point, but he found he didn't really care because when in fuck was he going to get an opportunity like that again? Sure, they popped up on eBay from time to time but at even higher prices than the one the seller had - the last one he saw sold for  _ six hundred dollars _ . And while the autobuy on this one was high, it was nowhere near that price range.

Fuck, he was excited though. He'd wanted one ever since he'd learned of them, found the whole concept of modeling a weapon after a tiger’s claws to be downright awesome. He kept thinking of how it would look in real life, how heavy it would be, how big or small the blades would be. Kept wondering what it would feel like to have it in his hand, to swipe it through the air, to see what it could do to -

His train of thought changed, suddenly and sharply, his heartbeat speeding. His mind was suddenly filled with a very vivid image - the  _ bagh naka _ trailing across tan skin, leaving trails of blood - so vivid that for a moment he couldn’t see anything else. He forced himself to breathe, to blink, refocusing on the page opened up in front of him. His heart was still pounding, his fingers tingling with a rush of excitement. Just the thought of it was enough to get him feeling wired, and he stared at the picture on the screen with a new sense of appreciation.

Christmas was coming, and well… okay, so he had gifts already, but what could one more hurt?

With a grin crossing his face, he scrolled back to the top and clicked AutoBuy.   
  
-   
  


The package came on a Wednesday, two nights before Lance’s last show before Christmas. Keith had come home to find it tucked into the corner of the staircase, out of sight, apparently delivered after Lance had already left for his shift.

Keith couldn’t blame Lance for getting carried away with excitement when his new knife had come in; the moment he saw that simple brown box a thrill ran up his spine, anticipation rushing through his body, and it took everything he had to keep from opening it right then and there. He managed to keep himself together until he got inside and took his coat off. The second he got his hands free, however, he was wrestling with the box to get it open. A knife, he needed a knife to cut the tape - he headed for the kitchen, grabbed a knife from the knife block and cutting the package open. 

There was bubble wrap inside, and another, smaller box with a note from the seller taped to it wrapped inside of it. Keith set it all aside to focus on that last smaller box, feeling the weight of it in his hands for a moment. Taking a breath, he slid the top cover off - and there, nestled within a sponge cut to its shape, lay the  _ bagh naka _ . 

It was a little rougher looking in person, he thought, far more real than on the screen, the steel a shade darker. Keith lifted it from the box and looked at it closely, then ran his fingers along each blade in turn. They were curved sharply, shaped into almost perfect crescents, and they were very impressive even though they were dull and obviously hadn’t been sharpened in a very long time. Slipping his fingers through the rings on either end of the crossbar, Keith let his fingers curve over the blades, and fuck if he didn’t feel, like, several times more dangerous right then. 

The fit was a bit tight though,  the rings pinching his fingers together slightly like the weapon had been made for a narrower hand, and Keith grinned. Lance’s hands were slimmer than his, it was like this  _ bagh naka _ was made for him.

There was a part of him was a bit...unhappy with himself though. He mused on that for a moment as his eyes wandered over the sight of the  _ bagh naka _ fitted onto his hand. He’d wanted one of these for  _ so long _ and it was there, in his hands and he was just going to give it away. But a greater part of him felt alright with it, because he  _ knew _ that not only would Lance love it, he’d  _ appreciate _ it, and… and well, if something else came out of it, Keith wouldn’t mind that either. Not one bit.

 

So he put the  _ bagh naka _ back into its box, and headed for the spare bedroom to find some wrapping paper. Lance had bought some downright ridiculous paper for presents for his siblings, and Keith chose the one with goofy little reindeer prancing across a backdrop of Christmas trees. He took the sponge out and wrapped the  _ bagh naka _ in tissue paper, layered enough that it wasn’t apparent what item it could be. Then he wrapped the box neatly in the reindeer wrapping paper, folding the corners up over the edges and taping them down. After a long, decisive look, he went back to the spare room and picked out a bright blue bow to stick on top of the present. It looked a bit ridiculous because he’d managed to pick the largest one in the bag, and it dwarfed the present, but whatever. 

All he had to do now was wait for Lance to get home.

 

Lance didn’t get back until half after eight that night, looking like he’d been dragged through the wringer again.

“Fuck the holidays, Keith,” He whined, pulling his scarf off sluggishly with one hand. “Fuck them. I don’t wan’em. Make them  _ stop _ .”

“You don’t want the holidays?” Keith asked from where he sat on the couch, holding back a grin. Lance shrugged off his coat, dropping it onto a chair and he must’ve been  _ really _ worn out if he didn’t even hang it on the back.

“Noooo…” Lance groaned. It took him three tries to get one boot off, and then he just stood there and stared down at the other one with a frown, like it had personally offended him. Keith snorted at that, a half-chuckle of sorts, and leaned forward to poke at the present on the coffee table.

“I guess you don’t want the presents, either, huh?” He said casually, eyeing Lance for a reaction.

“What?” Lance perked up almost immediately, head snapping around to look in Keith’s direction. “Presents? What presents?”

“Just one,” Keith said, allowing himself a grin when he saw Lance’s face brighten at the sight of the present. Pulling off his remaining boot, Lance kicked them both off to the side and hurried over to the couch, practically bouncing down next to Keith. 

“Why is there a present? It’s not Christmas yet, Keith,” Lance said, as if Keith had no idea what day it was and when Christmas was coming. His eyes were shining with curiosity though, and he was smiling brightly, as if all his energy had come back. 

“Yeah, well, I didn’t feel like waiting for this one so…” Keith said, excitement thrumming through him, and handed the wrapped present over to Lance. “Merry Early Christmas. Or something.”

“This is for  _ me _ ?” Lance asked, like he was still not understanding just what was going on. Keith sighed, rolling his eyes as he responded,

“I didn’t wrap it for  _ myself _ , Lance.”

“Keith,” Lance said softly, his eyes flicking between the present and Keith’s face like he couldn’t decide where to look. “Fuck, I feel stupid, you should’ve told me, I would’ve had something ready for you too-”

“Stop.” Keith said firmly, reaching out to rub Lance’s shoulder gently. “I had to give it to you today, or I’d be like, really tempted to just keep it for myself.”

Lance laughed, “Okay now I’m  _ really _ interested to see what this is.”

He glanced at Keith then, eyes narrowing in thought.

“What?” Keith asked, but he barely got the word out before Lance plucked the bow off the top of the present and stuck it on top of his head. 

“Perfect,” Lance said, grinning brightly, then leaned forward and gave Keith a kiss. “Thank you.”

“You haven’t even opened it yet,” Keith grumbled, frowning up at the bow even though he couldn’t see it. He didn’t take it off, though, choosing to watch Lance open the present instead. He was just the tiniest bit of nervous - what if Lance didn’t actually like it? - but mostly he felt anticipation vibrating through his body. He wanted Lance to get it over with, open it and see it and  _ react _ .

“Why are you so good at wrapping,” Lance said, brows furrowing as if this was something that needed to be considered. He didn’t hesitate in ripping the paper off, though, tossing it on the coffee table and eyeing the box curiously. He grinned at Keith, a bubbly and eager grin, and slowly pulled the lid off. Gently, he pulled out the tissue-wrapped item from inside and poked at it curiously. Keith felt excitement jolt through him - this was  _ it _ \- and though he still leaned back against the couch, he tensed in anticipation.

Slowly, almost too slowly, Lance began to unwrap the tissue paper, and Keith could feel his nerves begin to fray. He bit his tongue, trying to keep from snapping, but the urge was too strong.

“Open it already!” 

“Dude,” Lance admonished, shooting Keith a sour look. “I’m just enjoying the moment!”

“Stop enjoying it then,” Keith grumbled, crossing his arms to keep himself from the stupid tissue wrapped present out of Lance’s hands and opening it himself. 

And Lance - irritating asshole that he was - took his sweet time peeling back each layer of tissue paper. He had the audacity to keep glancing over at Keith every few seconds too, a mischievous grin on his face. Why the fuck Keith wrapped it so well, and in so many layers, he didn’t know. He just wanted it to look nice, and he wanted it to not be noticeable at first glance. He wanted it to be a surprise but it was all backfiring now. 

Finally,  _ finally _ , Lance pulled back the last layer of tissue paper to reveal the  _ bagh naka _ . For a moment he just stared at it, his grin fading a bit as surprise colored his features.

“That’s…” He began, looking up at Keith for confirmation.

“A  _ bagh naka _ .” 

Lance breathed something under his breath that Keith didn’t catch, still staring down at the weapon with an oddly surprised look on his face.

“Do you like it?” Keith ventured, a little put off by just how quiet and reserved Lance was being. He was usually a lot more boisterous with presents - he’d practically  _ squealed _ at an ear-piercing tone when he’d opened his birthday present - and this non-reaction he was having right then was making Keith nervous. Was it a weird thing to get? Keith didn’t think it was a weird thing to get. They both liked sharp, pointy things you can cut stuff (or yourself) with - it made sense that Lance would like it. Right? What if he didn’t like it? Fuck, Keith needed an answer, like,  _ yesterday _ , before he got bogged up with regret and embarrassment.

“Keith,” Lance said finally, his voice heavy with emotion as he lifted his gaze to meet Keith’s, “This is the best day of my life.”

“That’s what you said about the machete,” Keith answered back with a slightly relieved grin.  _ That _ time Lance reacted the way he’d expected him to - well, mostly. He’d expected the energetic exclamations, but the tears of joy had come as a bit of surprise.  This, though, this overwhelmed-to-the-point-of-silence reaction was something completely out of left field.

“This is  _ different _ , Keith,” Lance said, voice wavering somewhat and… oh no, was he going to cry again? Keith hoped not. He didn’t have anything against crying but he just… even if he knew Lance was happy it made him feel like he’d done something wrong. 

“I don’t know why, but okay,” Keith said, shifting a bit.  

“You’re so  _ stupid _ Keith,” Lance shot back, but he was smiling at him so Keith didn’t count it as an insult. Well, maybe half an insult. A quarter. 

“Try it on,” He prompted, motioning to the  _ bagh naka _ . 

“Yeah,” Lance blinked rapidly, looking back down at the box in his hands. “Yeah, okay. Okay!”

He pulled it out, and slowly slid it onto the fingers of his right hand. It fit perfectly, Keith thought, the curved blades sitting just below his long fingers, the crossbar just the right length to fit the width of his palm. And fuck, Lance looked so pretty staring down at it with that bright-eyed wonder.

“Shit, Keith,,” Lance said softly, moving his hand around and shifting his fingers across the blades. There was a glow in his eyes, a warmth there as he gazed down at his hand. “It feels so  _ good _ . Like… it’s just right. It’s  _ so right _ .”

Yeah, Keith recognized that glow, knew how it felt when something just  _ clicked _ and you knew it was going to be part of you, somehow, someway. It was a hard feeling to describe, but it just felt like something sliding into place, like warmth seeping into you, a feeling that was akin to  _ belonging _ but in a smaller, more contained way. He couldn’t explain it, but he knew it when he saw it.

“I’m glad you like it,” He said quietly, and Lance looked at him then, his grin having gone from blinding to soft and warming. He just  _ looked _ for a long moment, long enough that Keith started to get uncomfortable with the focused attention - and then he leaned over and wrapped Keith in a hug, tucking his face close to his. Keith didn’t hesitate to hug him back, savoring the warmth and the comfort that came with it.

“I love you,” Lance said softly, tightening his arms around Keith’s shoulders and Keith grinned, relaxing into his hold. Pressing a kiss to the side of Lance’s neck he whispered back,

“Love you too.”

 

\--   
  


Show night found Keith curled up on the couch, the History Channel playing muted in the background with his laptop set up on the coffee table. The lights were low and the christmas tree was twinkling multi-colored in its corner. Feebs, her mottled black and orange fur brushed to softness, was curled up on his lap and purring up a storm. She was currently Lance’s favorite stray, earning that honor after she’d begun waiting for him on the front steps to come home from work every day. He’d brought her in that week because she seemed to have a cold and the weather was taking a turn for the worse. Keith didn’t mind, Feebs was an absolute doll. He was pretty sure Lance was trying to get her used to the idea of being a house cat so that they could take her in permanently, considering the amount of cat toys, beds, and the cat tree he’d brought home from work that week.

Jackass, on the other hand, was devil spawn and there was no way anyone could convince Keith otherwise. He shot a wary look at the tomcat perched on the far end of the couch, back hunched and tail curled tight around his haunch. His bright yellow eyes were half-closed, but the moment Keith’s gaze landed on him they snapped open as if he could  _ feel _ Keith’s attention on him, and he gazed back with a similar look of distrust on his cat face. If it was up to Keith he would’ve left the feline incarnation of a demon outside, but he’d managed to slip through the door while Lance was carrying Feebs inside and Lance wouldn’t let Keith kick him back out. Something about freezing temperatures overnight and how he obviously didn’t want to stay outside in that weather. 

“What if he’s sick and needs to recuperate, Keith?”

Not that either of them would know if he was; not even Lance could touch the bastard cat from hell. The closest he got to contact with Jackass was when he played with the cat wand and the cat would overshoot and end up sliding into him. But, for some reason Lance had a soft spot for the standoffish furball, so Keith had grudgingly agreed to let him stay. Jackass had promptly took up a place on the couch arm and Keith had promptly gone about his day ignoring him.

“Why can’t all cats be like you?” Keith whispered down to Feebs, scratching behind her ears. She answered with louder purrs, turning to blink her pale amber eyes at him.

Sighing, Keith turned back to his laptop. The feed for that night’s show was still dark, and he was getting antsy. Sure, there were still a few more minutes to go but  _ come on _ , Lance couldn’t turn it on a little early for a little banter or something? Keith frowned at the screen and the scrolling chat and tried to curb his anticipation.

He’d honestly thought he’d be over it after all this time, or at least be less enthusiastic about watching Lances shows but he wasn't. He still got a thrill each Friday, still couldn't wait to get home to watch Lance prepare. Once Lance cranked the heat and dimmed the apartment lights, it was over, he was done. All of Keith's attention was focused on Lance, to the point that on his more restless days he'd take to following his boyfriend around the apartment - not closely, not like a creep, but in that vague sort of way where he wanted to be close but didn't want to be a bother. Lance had some very specific ways of preparing for the night, and Keith didn’t want to be underfoot but he just… he just  _ wanted to be right there _ ...

That night was no different, although it was made just a touch more ridiculous that this time Keith’s restless hovering included Feebs, the cat following him from one spot to the other and pausing along with him to peer curiously at Lance, as if she could tell something was up and wanted to know  _ what _ . Lance had found it downright hilarious.

But now Lance had been in the bedroom for over half an hour already and the show hadn't started yet and Keith was getting just a  _ little _ bit frustrated. He shifted on the couch with a sigh, idly watching the chat scroll. His personal chat with  _ PrincipessaDeLeone _ was still up, though she showed away on her notification; her partner had needed her help with something but she'd assured Keith she'd be right back. Keith thought it was kind of funny how easily they chatted with each other, especially how easy he found it to talk to her. Conversation was so much easier online, in text boxes, than in person. They didn't go into details about their lives, of course, but they'd often talk about all sorts of topics while waiting for Lance’s show to start. As far as Keith could remember, she had never missed a show, and he knew Lance often wrote with her as well. 

Finally, the video feed snapped to life. Lance wasn’t visible yet, though he cursed shortly after the feed turned on as something clattered to the floor out of sight. Keith grinned as Lance finally appeared, carrying several knives that he dropped onto the bed as he climbed on.  

“Sorry I’m late,” Lance said, turning to the camera and tilting his head slightly. “I didn’t notice the time. You ever chill so deep you like, snap out of it and it’s been like  _ five hours _ ? Yeah, it was sort of like that. Anyways-”

Feebs’s ears twitched at the sound of Lance’s voice, and she opened her eyes to peer towards the doorway, no doubt expecting to see him. Her attention turned to the laptop when he spoke again, and she let out a curious little meow, shifting on Keith’s lap to see the screen better. Keith petted her back, smoothing down her fur, and though her attention remained on the screen for now she went back to purring soon enough. 

It wasn’t the first time they had cats around when Lance was putting on a show. Keith had been both hesitant and slightly uncomfortable that first time - cats just had this way of  _ looking _ at you like they knew what was going on in your head, and it was even more unsettling than usual when they gave you that look in the middle of watching your boyfriend erotically cut himself on a live feed. The worst, though, had to be when Lance decided they absolutely had to take in the three kittens they’d found that fall and keep them until he could get the no-kill shelter to call him back about taking them. They wouldn’t stop meowing at the bedroom door and Keith was forced to lock them in the bathroom to keep those meows from being heard on the show’s feed. And since Lance would murder him if he just locked them in there by themselves, that meant he had to sit there with them until the show ended.

With a sigh at the memory, Keith turned his attention back to the show. Lance had adjusted the lighting for the show recently, getting warmer LED lighting that changed the show’s hue a bit. Keith hadn’t been a fan at first - so he got used to the way things looked, okay, so maybe he just liked the whole routine of it  _ maybe he didn’t like change _ \- but Lance convinced him to give it a few shows before he made any hasty judgements and… well, Lance had been right. In the end, the lighting really brought out the color of  _ everything _ , from the sheets and the walls and Lance’s skin to all the various shades of blood as it dripped and dried.

“Also, thanks to a special someone, I got one of my christmas presents early this year,” Lance clasped his hands in front of himself with an excited wiggle, and cocked his head to the side as he added, “And of course I’m going to share it with  _ you _ .”

They couldn’t see it, but Keith was certain that had been accompanied with a wink. He knew Lance was enjoying himself with those vague references he’d been putting in the show. He’d never outright stated he was dating anyone, or that he was  _ with _ anyone, but the implications were there, sometimes vague and sometimes not so vague, and it was driving his followers absolutely crazy. They’d gotten so far as to connect this ‘someone’ with the person who’d done the show last Christmas, but after that the theories went in wild directions. Keith wasn’t sure whether he should be worried about the level of jealousy he was seeing from some of Lance’s followers, but he had to admit it was a bit amusing. He’d even joined into the discussion one time, just for a bit, and now almost everyone was calling the unknown person the “cryptid partner”, much to Lance’s chagrin.

“Let’s get started then,” Lance said, settling back onto his butt with his legs bent and spread slightly. Keith’s eyes traced the familiar lines of scars across his body, though he could swear he was still finding new ones each time he looked. The autopsy scars from the year before had faded somewhat, though they were still stark and vivid in comparison to the smaller scars that littered Lance’s skin. They'd been cut deeper, and Lance had kept messing with them as they healed so they stayed thicker even once they healed. 

The chat scrolled, and Lance responded and reacted to whatever the occupants said, but Keith barely kept up with it. Some nights he was more attentive but that night he just wanted to watch, to let the show wash over him and enjoy it. Lance was so engaging and so  _ good _ and he was so  _ pretty _ and when he held up his favorite knife - the short bladed one with a well-worn black plastic handle - Keith felt the thrill tremble through him in anticipation of him becoming, impossibly,  _ even prettier _ . 

The blade caught the light along its edge, a spot of shimmer that raced up to the point as Lance turned it around. There seemed to be a discussion going on for where he should start (these days it felt like the the token meter started at the requests, the tokens poured in so fast at the start of the show). And then Lance was pressing the blade to his chest, just above his right nipple, and dragging it almost softly towards the side. The cut bloodied slowly, droplets beading along its length while Lance lowered the knife. He kept the same knife as he moved to cut again, parallel the first cut and a little higher. The movement of the blade across skin shuddered the droplets off the first cut, sending them streaking crimson down the curve of his chest. 

Keith wanted to be there, wanted to pull his fingers across those trickles of blood and spread it across Lance’s body. He wanted to feel Lance's breath hitch when his fingers ghosted over the cuts, hear the pleased rumble deep in his throat. Excitement trembled through his limbs, anticipation tightening in his joints as he watched the cuts multiply across Lance's skin. They painted a picture so  _ wholly _ him; no one else's warm, brown skin looked quite so delicious painted with the ruby streaks of their own blood. No one else could look so glorious and filthy and beautiful all at once.

Keith hadn't tired of it yet, and he didn't think he ever would. He wanted to be there next to him so desperately - fuck, it was worse than usual that night - but he had to  _ sit _ and  _ wait _ . Shifting unhappily on the couch, he leaned back against the cushions with a huffed breath, eyes narrowing at the screen. He shouldn’t be this anxious but he knew what was coming. The chat was debating what surprise Lance had in store for them but Keith  _ knew _ \- Keith had been there when Lance cleaned the  _ bagh naka _ , been there when he so very carefully sharpened the tips of the curved blades. Keith wanted to see it already, but Lance had a show to put on first. 

He did it well, as always, body movements evocative and sensual, his moans setting tremors dancing across Keith’s spine. He liked when Lance’s voice got husky like that, low and suggestive. He liked when Lance got into it that strongly, running his hand over his body, down his chest, across his abs, smearing the blood in swatches of dark ruby.

He just, really fucking liked  _ all of it _ . His fingers twitched, the memory of that warmth, of the edges of cuts dragging at his fingertips, sending a shudder through him.

It felt like forever before Lance was setting the latest knife aside and cocking his head at the camera.

“Who's ready for their Christmas surprise?” He asked in a purr, shifting on the bed to spread his legs even wider. The chat sped up a bit at the edge of Keith’s vision but he wasn’t paying attention to it. He sat up straighter, gently lifting Feebs off his lap and setting her on the couch next to him. She gave him a puzzled look, but he was pulling the laptop onto his lap before she could climb back on, eyes focused on the screen. 

This was  _ it _ \- Lance was reaching out his hand and pulling it back - and there  _ it _ was - the  _ bagh naka _ sitting on his right palm, gorgeous and deadly, archaic and elegant. Keith wondered if it had been used at all, back when it was made. If it had been used  _ a lot _ . He wondered what it would think, if it could think, being turned from a weapon of violence to a weapon of sensuality. He wondered if it would approve.

Keith did. He approved so much, watching with barely contained glee as Lance slipped his fingers into the holders and let the heavy metal sit against his palm. Energy was coursing through his limbs and staggering up his spine, sending tiny shocks across his skin. He wanted to be there, right next to Lance as the blades sliced through his skin, wanted to be there to catch the blood dripping from the cuts with his tongue...

“Bet some of you know what this is, eh?” Lance asked, reaching his hand towards the camera to show off the curved blades. The light glinted dully off the metal, the weapon looking so perfect nestled in his hand, the blades tucked under the curve his fingers. The chat was exploding, again, and Lance chuckled low and deep as he brought his hand back to his torso. He positioned it at the top of his left pec just below the collarbone, paused for a moment to take a deep breath and palm himself through the front of his briefs with his free hand - and then dragged his right hand down and in. 

The cuts spread thick, thicker than the ones made by his knives, and blood blossomed almost instantly, dripping over the edges in ruby rivulets. Lance pulled his hand away, leaving the full length of the cuts - from the top of his pec to the center of his torso directly above his stomach - on full display.

“Fuck,” He breathed, voice wavering in pleasure. “Oh  _ fuck _ that’s amazing…” 

He lifted his left hand to play at the cuts, the blood welling faster as he poked a fingertip into one of the cuts and Keith _whimpered_ , biting his lip in frustration. Why the fuck - _why the fuck_ \- couldn’t he be there? Touching, feeling the warmth of that blood… He gnawed at his lip, a hand he didn’t realize he’d raised twisting in the strands of his hair. He was so _hot_ inside, roiling with a warmth that pervaded him so deeply. He shifted in his seat, unable to sit still when he could imagine so strongly what it would feel like to _be there_ , and watched with another whimper in his throat as Lance put the _bagh naka_ back to his skin, at the side of his stomach now, and pulled it across in one, swift and smooth movement. The cuts bled as freely as the ones on his chest, thick and parting by themselves, the blood running almost too down his stomach to stain his briefs dark, and the sound Lance made - something like a moan, but more guttural, more _real_ , like an expulsion of sound he just couldn’t hold back - did something to Keith’s already whirling head.

He just… that was his, his gift, his preset, that Lance was using - it felt so personal, even on screen with so many watchers, it felt like it was all just for  _ them _ , just about  _ them _ \- Keith didn’t know what to do with it. Reeling, he struggled to breath, struggled to get back to solid ground, but Lance was smearing the blood around again, his fingers trailing it up to his neck, then down down down his abs and to his thighs, streaks of darkening crimson and the  _ need _ just hit Keith so hard. 

He forced his fingers out of his hair and rubbed his hand across his face. His skin was tingling, the tension in his joints begging to be released, so he moved the laptop to the coffee table and got up. Lance was finishing up, anyways, and Keith didn’t watch to the end these days. He didn’t need to. Instead, he paced his way down the hallway to the bathroom, all abuzz and barely contained, and turned the lights on. He got the kit out, setting it up on the sink counter and opening it so the bandages and everything were in reach. He checked to make sure there were towels, that Lance had prepared some clothes for after he cleaned up. Then he headed for the bedroom, trying to go slow because he wasn’t sure if Lance was done or not. He wasn’t going to hover like a creep outside Lance’s bedroom door, listening to hear whether the show had ended or not, so he headed back to the living room to check the stream. Walking around and getting things ready was taking care of some of that restless energy that had woken inside of him, but he knew he wouldn’t be rid of it completely until he got to Lance. 

Thankfully, the stream was dark, and after closing the laptop and patting Feebs on the head Keith headed back to the bedroom. He knocked on the door first, then opened it slowly before walking inside.

“Hey,” He said as he entered, eyes falling on Lance where he lay spread out on the bed, gas mask still on.

Lance made a soft noise in response, turning his head towards Keith, but no more.

“Did I come in too early?” Keith asked. Maybe Lance wanted more time to himself? But Lance shook his head, shifting a bit on the bed.

“Never.”

So Keith walked over, taking in the sight of him with open admiration. The blood was drying, but some was still seeping out of the cuts made by the  _ bagh naka _ . And fuck did Keith want to get his hands on it, on the cuts, run his fingers over it all -

“Need some help with that?” He asked instead, tearing his gaze away. Lance was fumbling with the gas mask, apparently having some trouble with the straps. 

“No,” He responded, slightly indignantly, but after another moment of ineffective struggling, he sighed and propped himself up on his elbows. “Please…”

Keith chuckled, sitting himself on the edge of the bed and reaching out to loosen the straps. He pulled the gas mask off gently, putting it on the bedside table. When he turned back Lance was looking at him with a pleased smile, face flushed, eyes bright and happy, and Keith ruffled his fingers through his boyfriend’s sweat-dampened hair, grinning back.

“What’d you think?” Lance asked, sounding tired but still eager to hear Keith’s response.

“I think you’re amazing.”

“Flattery,” Lance chuckled, leaning forward, and Keith met him halfway in a slow kiss. 

“Touch me, Keith,” Lance said when they parted, voice low and breathless. He stared into Keith’s eyes with a longing look.

“I don’t know if I should…” Keith answered wryly, evasively, and Lance groaned as he dropped back to the bed. He stretched out fully, angling his body towards Keith as he stretched his arms above his head.

“Do it…” He whimpered needily, reaching out to tug at Keith’s arms.

“Fine,” Keith replied, grudgingly, as if it was with great effort that he reached out and placed his hand on Lance’s chest. Lance grinned at the touch, eyes watching Keith hungrily as he trailed his fingers along the scabbing smaller cuts. 

Keith could feel the shudder beneath his hand, the tremor that ran through Lance each time his fingers caught on the edge of a cut. The blood was drying, tacky in some places, as Keith drew his fingers in slow, languid circles across Lance’s skin. Lance shifted happily under his touch, letting out a pleased sound as Keith’s fingers trailed back up to his collarbone.

“You’re gorgeous,” Keith whispered, leaning down to place a kiss at the tip of one of the  _ bagh naka _ ’s cuts on his chest.

“So you keep telling me…” Lance murmured, voice falling into a breathy sigh as Keith kept kissing along the length of the cut. His tongue licked along the edge and Lance groaned, his hands finding Keith’s hair, fingers twisting in it. Lance’s blood tasted like copper, a little salty and a little sweet, tasted like something completely foreign and yet so completely familiar, and Keith  _ loved it _ . It wasn’t like he was sitting around, lusting after Lance’s blood every day but in those moments, in  _ that _ moment, it just felt so right to taste the blood on his lips, to lick it off of Lance’s heated skin as he trailed open mouthed kisses lower down his body. 

“Oh, baby…” Lance breathed, his body shivering under Keith’s lips. Keith lifted himself a bit, tilting his head so he can look up at Lance. He looked absolutely blissed out, eyelids heavy over darkened eyes as he gazed down at Keith. Keith licked his lips, grinning, the leaned back down to press a kiss to a cut on Lance’s stomach. He sucked a little at it, the flavor of blood growing stronger on his tongue, and Lance  _ moaned _ , arching up against his mouth as his fingers twisted tighter in Keith’s hair.

Keith chuckled, pulling away. He knew what he could do if he kept at it, but there were boundaries neither one of them was willing to cross, boundaries they’d agreed should stay in place for a reason. So he pulled back, running his hand one last time along Lance’s stomach. The anxious energy inside of him had quieted, sated by the sight and the touch and taste of it all.

“Should probably get you cleaned up,” He said gently, Lance’s hands drifting to his face as he sat up.

“I guess,” Lance said with a pout, one of his thumbs tracing over Keith’s lips. He was looking intently at them rather than Keith’s eyes. 

“The sooner you get cleaned up, the sooner we get to cuddle, you know that,” Keith grinned against the touch.

“A sound argument,” Lance said, grin replacing his pout, and he pushed himself up with one hand. The other stayed resting on Keith’s cheek as he leaned forward. Their lips met in another kiss, a little harder than before, mouths parting as it deepened. Keith’s arms wrapped around Lance as Lance’s tongue ran across his lips, dipped into his mouth like he was chasing the taste of his own blood. The warmth within him flared, he felt so good holding Lance like this, kissing like this, just knowing how well they fit together. Keith couldn’t handle it sometimes, couldn’t handle just how happy being with Lance made him. 

“Do you need help?” Keith asked when they parted, unable to tear his gaze away from Lance’s. He could stare into his eyes for ever, fuck, it was like each time he looked at them there was another shade of cerulean he hadn’t noticed. He could stare into them  _ forever _ .

“I’ll handle it tonight,” Lance said softly, placing one last kiss to Keith’s lips before pulling away. Keith helped him off the bed, watched as he made his way out the door. He didn’t push to help - even though he wanted to, badly, wanted to take care Lance in some small way if he couldn’t in some  _ big _ way. Lance just had different ways of coping with the come down after his shows, and Keith had learned to accept that sometimes they included him and sometimes they didn’t. So he busied himself with cleaning up in the room instead, starting with gathering up the knives from the bed and carrying them out to the kitchen. He heard Lance talking to one of the cats over in the hallway, his voice soft and cooing.

Other people didn’t do this, Keith thought as he headed back into the bedroom. He got to pulling the bloody sheets off of the bed, Feebs meowing at his side as she joined him. He took his time, even playing a bit with her, so that Lance would have time to shower before he took the sheets to the bathroom to soak. Once he actually got to work, though, he had to keep pushing Feebs back as she wove between his arms, trying to get to the sheets before he could bunch them up. For some reason, she  _ really _ liked getting to the sheets and sniffing at the blood that had gotten on them. Hoisting the cat up in one arm, Keith finally managed to roll up the sheets, and he set Feebs back down on the mattress. Ignoring her petulant meow, he tossed the dirty sheets aside and got to work pulling new sheets onto the mattress. He arranged the pillows at the head of the bed and piled the covers and blankets on, then grabbed the dirty sheets and headed out of the bedroom, turning the lights off as he left so that the stars on the ceiling would start glowing just the way Lance liked them to.

Other people didn’t do this, he thought again, the sound of running water getting louder as he neared the bathroom. They didn’t bloody their sheets and they didn’t help their boyfriends bandage up all of their self-inflicted cuts. No, they probably had cuddle nights and date nights, went out to movies and made dinner together. Which, to be fair, he did with Lance as well - and often. They just had another facet to their relationship, one he supposed wouldn’t be too well accepted by the general populace. 

“Hey,” Keith said to let Lance know he was coming in.

“Hey yourself,” Lance said in response, looking tired but happy as he grinned up from where he was sitting on the toilet lid, empty gauze pad wrappers littering the sink counter. He’d rinsed off already, and had most of the smaller cuts patched up with butterfly closures. He was working on the cuts from the _bagh naka_ as Keith entered, the blood dripping from them as he placed the closures along the length of the first one. “Water’s ready, I think.”  
“Thanks,” Keith grinned softly, leaning down to kiss the top of Lance’s head gently as he moved past. He dropped the sheets by the side of the bathtub and reached over for the OxiClean. Surprisingly, it worked pretty damn good on blood stains. He guesstimated the amount he needed, though by this point he had a good grasp on what it was, and swirled the icy cold water to mix the powder into the water. He pressed the sheets into the water next, swishing them around until they were well and waterlogged. 

“Thanks,” Lance said after a moment, and Keith could feel a hand on his back.

“For what?” Keith asked, distracted, as he continued rubbing the sheets under the water. He could've just let them soak, but the stains came out better if he hand washed then a bit first.

“For not trying to fix me,” Lance said, his voice oddly soft. Keith frowned down at the cloudy water, hands stilling. Lance’s hand was still on his back, warm and steady.

“What’s there to fix?” Keith asked, puzzled, as he turned around to face Lance. He wasn't quite sure what Lance was getting at, and he could only assume Lance had had another deep thought session post-show. There was something about that period that oftentimes led Lance towards philosophical, sometimes introspective, musings. Unless he was still wired from the show, or crashing and needing more hands-on aftercare, he'd often spit out non-sequiturs in a curiously detached way as he cleaned up. They weren't exactly baseless, or unimportant - just random - so Keith at least tried to understand them. He failed a lot, because he wasn't exactly good at digging past subtleties, but he  _ tried _ .

Wiping his hands off on his shirt, he focused his attention on Lance. He was grinning at Keith, the hand that had been on his back now curling over his shoulder, pulling him closer. Keith leaned up on his knees, letting Lance pull him up, and all the while Lance  _ gazed _ at him like he was seeing something wonderful. Keith couldn’t meet his eyes, there was something too real there and Keith couldn’t help but feel that he didn’t deserve it.

“You missed one,” Keith murmured instead, eyes trailing down from Lance’s face past his neck to his chest and catching sight of a small, unbandaged cut over his collarbone. Barely thinking about it, he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to it. It wasn't bleeding anymore, it  probably didn't need to be bandaged since it was so shallow. Lance sighed, his arms wrapping loosely around Keith's neck now that he was closer.

“You’re perfect,” Lance said, pressing a kiss to the top of Keith’s head. 

“Sounds fake but okay…” Keith responded almost immediately. Lance chuckled at that, lowering his head to rest against Keith's, and Keith took the chance to press his face against Lance’s neck and close his eyes.

So it was one of those moods that Lance was in, the gushing praise moods that Keith somehow managed to avoid otherwise. He knew that it wasn’t some weird side effect of coming down from the rush, he knew that Lance honestly believed whey word he said, and the only reason he said so freely was because he was all buzzed and carefree feeling. It wasn’t even that Lance didn’t compliment him on a normal day, because he did - it was just, he wasn’t usually quite so  _ sincere _ about it, like, his tone didn’t feel quite so deep - Keith couldn’t explain it. There was just a different feeling between everyday moments, and moments like these, after a show where Lance seemed to be baring all, emotionally speaking. It felt more real right then, and Keith wasn’t sure he could handle it. He was relatively sure he didn’t deserve it, not the words or that tone. He liked it better when they just cuddled in moments like these, no words involved.

“You should finish patching up,” Keith reminded, voice slightly hoarse. Lance groaned, his arms tightening around Keith’s neck. “I mean it. Do you want me to help?”

“Sure,” Lance said with a sigh, pulling away unhappily. With Keith’s help they had the remaining few cuts bandaged up in no time, and soon enough Keith was putting the remaining gauze pads and closures away while Lance scooped the empty wrappers into the trash bin.

“Come on, let’s out of here before the stars lose their glow,” Keith said, turning back to Lance to give him a kissing, soft and short.

“Fine,” Lance said, and then his expression brightened. He grinned at Keith mischievously, his eyes glittering. “Did you look at the ceiling?”

“No?” Keith said, “Was… was I supposed to?”

“No, not yet,” Lance said, patting his shoulder as he stood up. Keith got to his feet as well, handing Lance the pajama pants he’d prepared. Lance pulled them on gingerly, shooting Keith a secretive smile. “Don’t look at it until I tell you to.”

“All right,” Keith agreed. He waited while Lance got dressed, and then they headed to the bedroom, turning the lights off as they went. Lance reminded Keith not to look up as he tugged him inside the room, and Keith obediently kept his gaze lowered as Lance pulled him to the bed.

“Okay, sit down,” Lance said, giving him a push. Keith could barely see anything in the darkness, the only light coming from the soft glow of the stars overhead. He was curious what was up there. Was it a surprise? What could Lance have done?

“Can I look up?” Keith asked a little impatiently, climbing onto the bed. It was a bit difficult to keep his eyes turned away from the ceiling as he got settled, but he was sure Lance was watching him like a hawk so he tried to keep from peeking.

“Not yet, Keith,” Lance said, clambering into bed as soon as Keith got settled leaning back against the pillows. He arranged himself in Keith’s lap, pulling the covers up around them as he leaned back against Keith’s chest. Keith nuzzled into his hair, wrapping his arms around his boyfriend. He was a comfortable weight against Keith’s body, warm and comforting.

“Now?” 

“Okay,  _ now _ .”

Keith looked up and.... Wow. His eyes widened at the sight spread out above them. The stars were there, as always, but now there was  _ more _ \- thin glowing lines connecting different stars to form constellations all across the ceiling. Some were thinner, some thicker, and a smattering of tiny dots in areas that mimicked gatherings of stars further away. Keith’s eyes traced the lines of familiar constellations; he found Casseiopia, the Big Dipper, Orion… he started running out of names though he recognized the configurations. The entire Northern Hemisphere was up there, glowing softly on their ceiling, and Keith was absolutely dumbfounded at the sight.

“But...how?” He asked after a long moment, unable to tear his eyes away, “When?”

“I didn’t have a shift today so I did it while you were at work,” Lance replied, sounding pleased as punch. His hands came to rest on Keith’s, fingers lacing with his. “I thought you’d get a kick out of it.”

“It’s awesome.” Keith couldn’t look away. It wasn't as good as the night sky over the Nevadan desert, nothing was, but it was so pretty. Lance just never ceased to surprise him.

“I wanted to paint the Milky Way too but I couldn't figure out how to do that without messing the rest up…” Lance said, voice beginning to slow with sleepiness. He tilted his head and nuzzled against Keith's arm, sighing contently. “I'm glad you like it. I mean, it's not like a super amazing surprise but-”

“I really like it, Lance. I love it.” Keith said, looking down at him. Detaching a hand from Lance's grasp, he ran his fingers through his hair, over and over until Lance’s eyes slid closed and his breathing began to slow.

“We can paint the Milky Way on the hallway ceiling,” Keith offered softly, and Lance grinned, eyes remaining closed even as he shifted a bit off of Keith so he could cuddle against his side instead. 

“Sounds like a plan,” He breathed, arm wrapping around Keith's waist. 

Keith grinned up at the ceiling, eyes tracing the constellations until his eyes finally closed.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know what you think! Hope you enjoyed


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